The Fourth Day
by exiled mind
Summary: Nyota has changed her routine slightly and Spock must find out why. A ficlet from Bridge2sickbay drabble community. This week's theme: office supplies. Warning: references to difficulty in conceiving.


Prompt: Spock, Uhura - Calendar

* * *

The Fourth Day

″Nyota?″ Spock caught her attention with a soft, tentative – or what passed for tentative in a Vulcan – query.

″Yes?″ Nyota looked up from the PADD she was reading as they sat at the small table in their quarters sharing their morning meal.

″I have noted that for each of the past four mornings you have added an additional step to your morning routine.″ Attuned to her as he was, Spock did not miss the way her fingers tightened on the spoon in her hand. He had earlier noted that she was tense as she left the bathroom following her morning ablutions and she had spoken little as they ate. This data, had it occurred independently, would not have been cause for concern, but occurring so closely together was unlikely to be a coincidence.

″After rising from bed and performing your morning stretching, you now stop by the computer terminal and spend approximately forty-point-two seconds observing a visual representation of an Earth calendar prior to entering the bathroom for your morning shower.″ Though he had noted this change in her habit from the first day, it had not given him cause for concern until that morning when he had seen precisely what she had called up onto the monitor. ″I must inquire as to whether I have somehow forgotten an important event that is distressing you.″

Nyota's eyes widened slightly, and she quirked a slight smile. ″No, Spock, you haven't forgotten an anniversary or birthday or anything.″ Spock could sense that she was amused, and so chose not to correct her assumption of his concern.

″May I inquire as to the reason for your change in routine?″

″I'm-″ She paused as though unsure of how, or whether, to continue. After a moment Spock could see her straighten her shoulders and take a deep breath before continuing. ″I'm late, Spock. Four days. I have decided to wait for five days before I go to Sickbay to see if...″ She trailed off and Spock could sense the brief flare of pain that she felt.

Spock had, of course, been aware of her cycles and that her most recently due menstruation was delayed, but she had never before waited for so long to determine if what they had both hoped for had occurred. He reached for her hand where it rested on the table and stroked a finger across her palm. ″What is the significance of five days?″

″I wanted to wait to be sure, or at least more sure, that it might be real and not just another false alarm. I've been telling myself that if after five days I still haven't gotten my period, then it might be real this time, and I can hope.″

Hope was important to the nature of humans, and to his bondmate in particular. ″The referencing of the calendar is an act of bolstering confidence?″

Nyota smiled at him, the sweet curve of her lips more pronounced this time. ″In a way.″

Spock pondered his next statement. Now that he knew the cause for her demeanor he should allow them to continue on with their day and not allow this new possibility to distract him from his duties, but, to the shame of his Vulcan ancestors, he was... impatient. He could not bring himself to feel that shame, however, as the curiosity and anticipation were far more welcome.

″Do you still wish to wait for the fifth day?″ He had not meant voice that question, had intended to try and restrain his wonder, but it had slipped past his guard unhindered.

Nyota gripped her hand around the fingers still pressed to her palm. ″If you want to, we could-″ She paused a moment in thought. ″I would like to know, and as long as you are with me, whatever we find out...″

Spock rose from the table and walked around it to her. He pulled her chair away from the table and knelt to the floor beside her.

″Spock, what are you-?″

Nyota sat very still when Spock raised his one hand to a spot low on her abdomen and entwined the fingers of the other with her own. He remained still and silent for a long minute with his eyes closed and head tilted ever so slightly to the side. When he opened his eyes it felt almost as though their quarters were... brighter, though he knew objectively that such a thing could not be true. He also knew that his lips were curved into a faint smile and did not care to school his features into their normal impassive expression. Through their link, he knew Nyota was being buffeted by his emotions: joy, honor, expectation, a tinge of worry...

″Spock, am I- are we-?″

As tears began to fall down her cheeks, Spock rested his head against her stomach and she threaded the fingers of her free hand through his hair.


End file.
